Devil Fruit: Sand & Diamond
by Hand of Sand
Summary: Basically, this is what happens when Devil Fruit turn up in Fullmetal Alchemist. Unexplainable, completely impossible for any from of science to understand, watch my OCs tear apart Amestris with the powers of my favourite Fruit. No One Piece characters.


Disclaimer: I, in my _very _finite foolish cannot lay claim to ownership of any concepts from One Piece, Fullmetal Alchemist or any other manga references I throw in.

**Well, I haven't been here in a long time (See the bottom for more details, I wrote that part first). I was just watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood 21 as I downloaded Slayers TV 16 and I thought, wait a moment, how much fun would the Devil Fruit in Fullmetal Alchemist be? I mean, so long as they 'obeyed' the un-rules of science from One Piece (#1 Manga/Anime for me) they would work, and it's fun when people get frustrated over not being able to explain something. I mean, I'm an atheist, so I trust real science over anything 'supernatural', but anime and manga show **_**fictional**_** worlds where such is possible, so why bother trying to make it fit science? I mean, look at Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, they run on PURE AWESOME! And that's it! **

**NOW READ & BE AMAZED!!!!!!!**

A perfectly ordinary day. That was how it started, just like any other day for a citizen of Amestris who wasn't an Alchemist. The events of this apparently ordinary, however, would shake the foundation of the world. For a new power had emerged, one that a world of logic and reason such as this would never unravel. A power not granted by fate, parentage or merit, but by chance. This new power was the blooming of the Tree of Hell, birth of the Fruit of the Devil...

For Domion Nikolai, this apparently perfectly ordinary morning that seemed to be the beginnings of a perfectly ordinary day, just one among the many crowding his perfectly ordinary life. Such a state of affairs was the aim of many hearts, even if they told themselves they wanted fame, or power, or money, or any other hundred other things that floated through the thoughts of these perfectly ordinary people. But Dom wanted more. Day after day, hunting through the surrounding forests for wild animals to catch for food or to trade, he wanted more. And today, within this perfectly ordinary Amestrian, he would find it.

Dom grumbled under his breath as he stalked through the forest, rifle in hand. So far, he could find none of the prey he had thought to find and this put him in a fouler mood than losing a shooting contest, which he would have pointed out had only happened once and to that infernal soldier-woman. If one were to ask the village folk however, they would find out that during the two day stay of the soldiers that he had spent two of every five hours challenging her for rematches, unable to accept that another could be his equal in one of the few things he took joy in. Most of the village had quickly learned that he didn't like reminders and it really isn't a good idea to mock someone who constantly has a long range rifle with them. It cost far too much to repair blown off door handles every day.

Growling angrily, Dom stood up out of his crouch, pulling his long, thin brown dreadlocks out of the pony tail he kept them in when hunting, fed up with this. He would come back during the afternoon or evening, and see if he was more successful than. About half to the village however, the usually watchfully paranoid Dom felt some smack bang on top of his head. Swearing profusely, Dom swung his rifle around and spun, seeking whoever had chosen this unfortunate day to annoy him. He wouldn't kill them; he'd just give a..._flesh wound_. Heh.

Unable to locate anyone, his annoyance flipped into curiosity when he looked at what had hit him. A strange fruit, with the colouring of sand and, when he picked it up, the texture as well. He eyed it suspiciously, having never seen anything like it at the market or in the forest. A fruit that had skin like sand paper? What the hell?

Sighing out of frustration he thought _'Why the hell not, probably not poisonous and even if it is, at least it would make today more interest than usual'_, lifted the fruit to his mouth and took a huge bite. Somewhat slow on the uptake, his taste buds didn't alert him to the taste, and it wasn't until he'd swallowed the chunk that he comprehended what was wrong. Spitting in disgust Dom glared at the fruit, because _'Hell, it even tastes like sand!'. _Throwing the foul fruit behind him, Dom didn't even look back, so he never saw the fruit wither into a pile of sand behind him. If he had known what the stomach churning fruit would lead him to, he would have eaten the whole thing with relish. But that, as they say, is another story. This actually isn't quite true, since it is in fact a part of this story, so it will be told, if you would come back soon.

-------------------

As one story unfolded, another was already progressing on the other side of the country as, on eastern border of Ametris, in the ruins of what had once been the nation of Ishbal, a man died. Collapsing to the group, the body joined the other lying in the ruins of the destroyed home. An observer would have seen a woman reclothed and bandaged, then cautioned not to leave the ruins, to return to safety. Unfortunately, there was such an observer.

The shot hit the woman squarely on the back of the head as she sprinted out from the ruin; the body collapsing as the momentum from the run keep her falling away, as if fleeing the horror even in death. No longer bothered with subtlety the soldiers came out of hiding, weapons at the ready. The worst of the worst, this bunch of murderous baby-killers were the 'Red Specials'; Soldiers with histories of violence and murder, 'redeeming' themselves on the field of combat against the 'terrorist remnants of the violent Ishbalan people', known for their blood lust, the 'Red'. Laughing at dead woman, they didn't even see what hit them, when emerging from the ruined house, screaming in horror and rage, came an Ishbalan monk.

Roaring incoherently, Sabris the Monk laid about him, vicious with his sacred martial skills even when madden. Breaking one man spine with a punch, he dodged aside against a thrust bayonet, grabbing the weapon and ripping from the owner's hands while twisting to slam a foot against his throat and thrusting the weapon into the eye socket of a third as he straightened from his kick. On it continued, a single unarmed warrior tearing apart a far larger group of soldiers. Making a snap decision the commanding officer, safely tucked away from combat in his tent at camp listened to the report from one of the unit scouts watching the combat from a safe distance. Talking with on another frequency he ordered their allotment of three tanks to surround the area and bombard it from a distance, while a 'dedicate squad of valiant men gave their lives to bring down a foul terrorist'. As he listened to the sound of shells pounding the small town ruins, he smiled in satisfaction and went back to his book.

Unfortunately for the officer, the monk wasn't dead. Groaning, Sabris pulled himself out of the crater he had fled to once the bombing started, he berated himself for acting so thoughtlessly. He had thought the soldiers had been further away, that the two would be rapists had been advanced scouts. _'But no, you fool, you that woman killed with your carelessness. You should have known that she might have known that she might not be calm enough to listen. You should have done something other than move the bodies, then she wouldn't be dead.' _As these thoughts and many other filled his head, the monk's body painstaking pulled itself over the lip of the crater and he staggered to his feet. Forcing himself to stay up Sabris began his trek deeper into the ruins. The debacle he had made here may be the end of him, as it was unlikely he would heal in time to face his enemies. But, Sabris reflected sadly as he caught his dishevelled appearance in a shard of glass, his white ponytail miraculously still bound, he would have lost soon in any case. Eventually, he would have been hit by a lucky shot, or he'd let his guard down get hit by surprise. Trying to beat back the waves of depression, he faced the fact he that was mere flesh and blood, and it would take warrior carved of stone and steel to face his enemies day after day for a lifetime and such a man he, sadly, was not.

Continuing deeper into the ruins, Sabris came across the remains of a garden, a single near dead tree in the centre. Lying on the ground next to it was particular, shaped with swirls on each hard scale-like piece of skin. A light purple, this did not put him off. He had lost everything, what would one rotting fruit do to him. It took no more than one bite to convince himself what harm it could do. Despite this, the taste had him thinking back to his childhood, strangely enough to the time years ago when he was barely seven, quite curious about his mother's jewellery, he had tried to take a bite out of her diamond studded bracelet. For the fond memories at least Sabris consumed the rest of the fruit. Before he realised what was happening, between his wounds and his comforting memories, he was drifting off.

What awaited him when he awoke would be the first of many such events, and the dawn of his new life.

-------------------

Stopping at the general store to purchase something full of sugar to offset that foul fruit, Dom entered the store, not paying attention to anyone until the barrel of a pistol poked one of the lenses of his small, orange-tinted square sunglasses.

"Ugh!" he let out a small gasp as he retreated a step, finally realising that his self-absorption had lead him into a robbery. _'Well fuck, there goes my day,' _he thought '_AGAIN!'_

A rough voice interrupted his thoughts. "Back off, right lad? I'm the one with the gun and you was stupid enough to walk in on this little shindig, so I suggest you stand still and keep your mouth shut or else you'll be breathing out your chest, you get me?" The owner of the pistol kept his weapon glued to the unfortunate hunter while his companions continued ransacking the shop. Apparently he was the first to enter and so no one outside had realised what was happening.

Of course, none of this entered Dom's re-routing trains of thought, as self-preservation instincts were steam rolled by his pride. "_Stupid?_ ME? You're the morons _stupid _ enough to rob a god damned _general store _in the middle of the day! I just wasn't paying attention, but you _fucks_ had to at least given this some thought and _somehow _the idea that to choose here and not the bank or even the fucking _gambling den_ must make you lot the most brain dead fu-" Dom's tirade was cut off as he noticed that the criminal was indeed a man of his when his finger clicked down on the trigger.

The sound of the bullet blasting from the weapon barrel filled the store as did the sound of...broken glass? Thinking the bullet had missed him when he flung himself backwards; Dom turned and saw the window falling apart. It was then that he noticed three important things. The first was that the robber hadn't fired again, and that there was sand in eye and that his head felt a bit fuzzy in middle...all the way through. Lifting his hand to find what was going on, he found a most curious thing.

"There's hole in my head." Dom's vocalised what the silent, staring store full of thieves had been thinking in shock. Poking around, he turned and looked into one of the unbroken window panels. If he didn't know better, he'd say that a tunnel of sand was going straight through his head. Staring at his reflection, Dom barely noticed the man who had shot him aiming at him, determined to kill this...demon.

Luckily for Dom, he _had_ heard, if just. In the split second he instinctively...well, he'd could describe it. It felt as natural as breathing and just as ordinary, yet he felt the bullets tearing straight through where his torso had been, each creating a tunnel walled in sand.

Dom looked down at his chest, grinning barbarically as the knowledge that hovered around the edges of mind finally penetrate. Somehow, _somehow_ he knew what he was. A man of the desert, a creature of dryness, a _SANDMAN!_

Roaring with laughter, it wasn't until he later paused to gather his thoughts that he worked out what had happened. Acting on instinct he had extended the strange gritty, muzzled feeling across his body and as he stretched his hands towards the thieves he had forced it out, away from his hand in a rush of adrenalin that sent twin blasts of sand rocketing at the cowering men, lifting them into the air and slamming into the racks against the wall. The rest, when the police burst in ('_timely only when it hurts me' _an annoyed Dom thought later) and, able only to that in some impossible means Dom was using sand to throw, from their view, shoppers against the wall, opened fire. The next instinctive surge, to sandblast these fools to tattered bones was blocked by the rare bit of common sense getting through with the thought to work out why he could do this prevailed and he simply, let go, released his hold on his human form and dissipated into a cloud of sand which shot in all directions.

Through force of will Dom gathered himself inside his small home at the edge of town. Staring down at his hands, a grin slowly spread across his face.

The life time of perfectly ordinary days was over. With this power, he was promised never ending excitement. Dom's laughter filled the cabin as he contemplated this new turn of events.

"Look out Amestris, here I come with hand of Sand! AHAHAHA!!!"

**Go on, guess what fruit they ate? A gift prize of three peas and a pregnant hen to whoever gets it right in CAPITALS!**

**Well, this is the first story for which I've been motivated to continue writing in ages. Well, to put it bluntly, I usually get lazy or bored, as happened back in 2003, but I've returned. No, no, don't cry too much. Wait, are you crying in terror? Come Now, I'm not that bad. Anyway, since I like this one so much, I think I'll continue. If you happen to feel like it, give me a review. Good reviews make me feel all tingly, bad reviews make me murderous.**


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